


Waltz.

by patchesc137



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Dancing, Denial of Feelings, F/M, Fluff, Matchmaking, Royal Ball, unestablished feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-30
Updated: 2019-09-30
Packaged: 2020-11-08 13:02:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,968
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20835902
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/patchesc137/pseuds/patchesc137
Summary: Reader is assigned to teach the brothers how to properly dance. Thorin's main worry is Kili, who he tells you to focus on. Perhaps for more specific reasons than simply teaching him to waltz.





	Waltz.

**Author's Note:**

> Thorin is a great matchmaker.
> 
> Also, my bad on the length, damn.
> 
> ( ps i take requests on patchesc-137 on tumblr oxo )

The dwarves and their kingdom seemed to be back to high standing and routine, which was something you and many others are grateful for. The choice you made to stay was much easier than the thought of leaving. Making such friends, allies for life, there was no way this world was something you could simply walk away from. 

Thorin was nice enough to put you up in one of their finest rooms. Humbly, you told him that wasn’t necessarily, that you could pay for a room in town with your share of the treasure, but if we know anything of Thorin Oakenshield, it’s that his word was usually final. So you gave compliance and secretly lay in awe in those rooms. In awe perhaps of the entire kingdom. You all had been lucky to get out of the final battle alive, and the fact that you all could live so harmoniously now made you very happy.

You are told there is to be a ball taking place towards the beginning of Spring, to celebrate the coming of the season. Not only this, but it was Thorin’s hope that his nephews would finally find a dwarodam to wife, that Fili may have a Queen as soon as Thorin passed away. It’s when the waltz is mentioned that Kili protests.

“Dancing?” he questions, a tone of nervousness in his tone. “Why do I need to learn to dance? Fili’s the one looking for a dam,”

Thorin sighs, as if he’s already explained this. We wouldn’t be surprised if he had. “Yes, but you are a Prince, too, Kili. Which means you should properly know how to perform royal duties. Including this,”

The young dwarf would try to argue further, but again- Thorin was stubborn enough not to back down. It’s after this conversation that the King finds you, and fits you into the equation. He corners you in the corridor, just around the bend, waiting for you to close your book and pay him attention before he explains that you would be Kili’s dance instructor.

“Me?” you say incredulously, holding your leather bound book to your chest. “Thorin, I’m… Dancing isn’t my strong suit,”

“That’s not what I remember seeing back in Rivendell,” he’s referring to the elven celebration, after the dwarves finally agreed to get Elrond’s help. Your cheeks grow a bit warm thinking about it. Just a bit too much ale brought you around a fire, laughing and dancing along with an elven boy as a few others played their harps and horns.

Your cheeks now match the color they were that night. “I’m afraid I was a bit intoxicated. I’m not sure I would dance properly without the ale,”

“I think you doubt yourself,” There’s something in Thorin’s eyes that doesn’t quite match up with his request. Like he knows something that you don’t. You wish to protest, but could you really say no to a King? One that would try everything he could to make sure you did not refuse? So the only thing you could do was agree.

“I will try my best,”

Thorin gives a nod of thanks before he was off again. You swear you see a small smirk, but it could just as easily be your nervous eyes playing tricks on you. Right after this encounter, you ran toward the kingdom’s main library to find everything you could on proper dancing. Not just this, but _royal_ dances. Something with illustrations, and instructions. You’ve never been in a palace during a ball, but you didn’t plan on letting the King, or his nephews, down. You would find a servant, bribe them into your room to practice with just before nightfall. It’s only a week later when you find yourself and the brothers in one of the ballrooms, small band sat in the corner, waiting for the lesson to start.

Your hands ring together, and Fili and Kili share a look, trying to stifle their laughter. Of course they weren’t nervous, why would they be? This was much worse for you than it was for them.

“Fili first, then,” you squeak out, clearing your throat before motioning for the musicians to begin. The older of the two stepped up and bowed. You courtsed like you learned you should before placing his hand in the proper point at your back. Leaning around Fili to give Kili a stern look, you placed your hand on Fili’s shoulder. “Pay attention, because you’re next,” The younger nods like he understands.

Fili already seems to know what he’s doing. He leads as a Prince should, seems to be counting out the steps in his head. When you split apart and pretend to step in an invisible line, he knows when to move and when not to. As the music comes to an end, you smile with an impressive air. “Thorin made it seem like you two wouldn’t know what you were doing, Fili, but I have to say- you’re quite good,”

“It’s not me that our Uncle is worried about, Y/N,” he bows once more at the end of the dance, turning to Kili with a smug and knowing look.

“That wasn’t that great,” Kili protests, knowing what his brother was getting at. You wouldn’t mention that, yes, Thorin wanted you to focus on the younger of the two. “Move over, I’ll show you how it’s done,”

Kili all but storms up, trading places with his brother. Bowing right in front of you, sloppily bringing one arm out to the side to steady himself, only to stumble a bit when he came back.

“If you bring your leg back behind you when bowing, it’s less likely you’ll fall over,” your voice is serious, helpful, and unfazed by Fili, who was snickering from his seat. A light pink sneaks into the skin beneath Kili’s beard. “Take my waist,” you instruct, only to guide his hand upward when he sets it just a bit too low. A warning look is given, but all Kili can do is beam.

“Sorry, sometimes they have a mind of their own,”

Right. Your hand cups his shoulder. Light. Gentle. You’re trying to persuade him with your own severity to straighten up and do what he’s told, but it doesn’t seem to be working.

“Tighten this arm,” Your hand is in his own, elbow pointed to the floor- Kili’s limb is like a dead snake, hanging there and bringing both of your appendages down. Immediately, he straightens his elbow outwards, like a chicken, and you’ve quite frankly had enough as you drop his hand and step away from him. “If you aren’t going to take this seriously, Kili, I’m afraid I’ll have to tell your Uncle that you won’t be attending the ball,”

The man can seem to do nothing more than chuckle in response. "Would you? That's the only way I'll be able to get out've it,"

Your face twists up with disappointment, though your gaze remains stern on the Prince. “This means a lot to Thorin,” you chide, and almost instantly, his face falls. Fili is no longer laughing, but staring on consciously. “So if you aren’t going to do it for yourself, at least do it for him,”

Kili’s face scrunches up like he’s tasted something sour, but he knows you’re right. As much as he goofed off, or even teased Thorin, his uncle meant a lot to him. To both of the brothers. There’s a long sigh that escapes him before he glances up at you. “Fine. Show me again,”

Good. You give a single, curt nod before allowing him to take your waist once more (in the proper position this time). It takes a moment for him to straighten his arm, but when he does, you nod toward the band to take up their instruments. You realize, when he starts dragging you around the floor, that maybe he’s so reluctant because he’s comically bad. Kili fumbles, barely knows the steps, has to keep looking at his feet. You remove your hand from his to wave at the players, telling them to stop with a simple motion.

“Just say it,” his words sound miserable and embarrassed. He shakes his head like he’s failed. He’s bound to give up, if you don’t give him some kind of encouragement.

“You’re an awful dancer,” Very good. That’ll cheer him up. Kili looks at you with a furrowed brow. However, you return the look with a soft grin. “But there are still several weeks until the ball. So, we shall work hard to make sure you are at least presentable by then, if not the best dancer in the kingdom. Alright?”

There’s a look of skepticism from everyone one in the large room, including the members of the band, but you’re reassuring enough to make Kili nod.

“Good. Again,” you raise your arms and go through the process a second time.

This starts a cycle. Lessons occupy most of your time. When you aren’t teaching Fili and Kili to do the steps, you’re reading about the dances, going over the things you’ve already learned several times. Where the older brother has lessons twice a week, you work with Kili every day. He needs more practice, definitely, but you don’t give up hope. Despite the fact that he doesn’t really improve that much within the first half of the month.

“This is hopeless!” he threw up his hands one afternoon, before covering his face to hide the shame he felt.

“It is not,” you sigh, stepping up to him after a moment to remove his hands. You are blunt, eyes firm as you stare at him, trying to convey to him through a simple look that there was no way he was giving up now. “You’re getting better, whether you think so or not. And you’re going to make your Uncle proud. I won’t hear another word otherwise. Understood?”

On this day, light flooding through the high windows of the hall and over your features, you so close to Kili, Kili so close to you, staring at each other with barely a blink, the Prince realizes something marginally surprisinging to him- he was happy to be spending so much time with you. He found himself excited, entering this room, holding you, one hand on your waist, pulling you in when he almost falls over, or misses a step. There’s a moment of quiet contemplation, and Kili looks into your eyes, only to give a smile and a nod.

“Understood,”

The days leading up to the royal ball consist of improvement and a slowly building spark between the two of you. Unadmitted, of course- neither of you wanted to complicate things. This celebration was to find the Princes dwarrowdams to marry. Sure, it was mainly for Fili, but it wouldn’t hurt for the younger to find someone as well (Thorin’s words, not yours). Still, that didn’t stop longing glances, holding each other close, and extending the dances just to be near each other for a little bit longer. The way Killi stared into your eyes, with the smallest of grins on his lips, you swear you were dancing on clouds instead of a stone floor. It’s heaven, if only for a short while.

“I think you’re ready,” It’s 3 nights before the big event. He’s practicing in his royal robes instead of normal clothing. So handsome, so clean cut. The braids in his long locks are perfect and pristine, silver beads intertwined with grace and dignity. The music stops and you try to step away, but Kili holds you tightly around the waist, glancing over your face with a soft and glittering stare.

“Are you sure I couldn’t use one more lesson?” he questions, eyes settling on you with a lidded gaze. You can feel your cheeks burning. Your bottom lip is involuntarily taken between your teeth in an attempt to keep yourself from grinning. This isn’t right. He’s a prince. You’re… well, nothing compared to that. Just someone who embarked on a journey. Nothing more.

After a moment of longing stares shared between the two of you, you clear your throat, looking away so you’re able to finally step out of his grasp. “You’re more than ready,” you assure, straightening the already wrinkleless fabric of your dress. If you were to look back at Kili, you’d find him disappointed. But you can't bring yourself to meet his stare again.

“You will come to the ball, won’t you?” he asks, with just a hint of hope in his voice. “If for nothing else than to see me make a fool of myself?”

You give a chuckle, collecting your books from your seat. “Yes, I will be there. Thorin graciously extended an invitation to me,” Again, disappointment clouds Kili’s vision, knowing you wouldn’t be there for him. But unbeknownst to you, he wouldn’t give up so easily. When you finally do look at the prince, you give him a very small smile. “I look forward to seeing you dance, Kili,” And then you left.

You think about him quite a lot the next 3 days. You seem to miss his warmth, his strong embrace. The terrible jokes he told you in your ear while you were practicing- you laughed until you cried, sometimes. That was the kind of joy you wanted in your life, all the time. His smile, his eyes, his hair, his still growing beard, all of his physique and voice and words clouded your senses. You keep trying to tell yourself that you cannot be with him, but you always came back to the fact that you thought you loved him. 

Actual love. The kind that continued your lessons and allowed you not give up on him, when things really did seem hopeless. The kind that causes you to laugh, even at stupid little things. The kind that keeps you up at night, the kind you dream about. The kind that gives you chills, and butterflies, and starry eyes. The kind that makes you forget that you are not meant to be with a dwarven prince. That it wasn’t meant to be; star-crossed lovers, and nothing more.

The night of the ball comes slowly, and the feeling in your chest swells as you’re dressed for the occasion. You told Thorin you could dress yourself, but he insisted that a handmaiden help you. It’s all so extravagant- the long, dark blue dress with silver lining; delicate shoes and a silver head piece with a sparkling sapphire- and once again, you think you see a knowing glint in the King’s eyes. You’ve never worn anything like this, and when you look in the mirror, you barely recognize yourself as a regular human at all.

Away in Kili’s chambers, you know he’s preparing himself. Maybe he’s dressed already, practicing his steps alone, pretending there is a partner across from him as he counts his steps. The idea makes you smile. He deserves a beautiful dam, one that would appreciate him, and his goofy sense of humor. And you hoped, though it may sadden you, that he finds that tonight.

You’re unescorted as you enter the ballroom. A dwarf at the doors collects your overcloak, and you thank him as he assists in removing it from your shoulders. You don’t notice, as you walk toward your seat, that several of the guests are staring at you, looking you over, admiring you. Across the hall, Kili is searching the crowd for you, over the heads of the other dwarowfolk. When he does spot you, it’s as if he’s frozen in place. He no longer hears the story that’s being told to him. Instead, the music floods his senses, and he stares after you and your flowing dress, watching your body as you walk and greet others with a friendly nod. His heart swells and beats ferociously in his chest. Kili loves you, and he has to have you. Hopefully, his plan would be enough to win you over.

You’re seated and sipping at your ale when a dwarf approaches you. He’s covered in hair, but it’s kempt. You can tell he’s handsome, underneath, with glowing hazel eyes and a warm smile. His hand is out, offering for you to take it. “You look rather bored, sitting by yourself,” he quips in a charming voice. “Would you like to dance?”

You didn’t, really. But you were nothing if not polite, so you grounded your chalice and took his hand with a light touch. “Oh, well… of course. Thank you,”

This dwarven man pulls you toward the floor, waiting for the next song to take up residence before bowing deeply to you. A perfect bow. One Kili hadn’t completely mastered before the lessons were through. You give a simple curtsy before you begin the dance. It’s something faster, not as intimate as the waltz, but he tries his best to impress you. He’s a skilled dancer; he definitely knows what he’s doing. But it isn’t… fun. This dance is expected of you, of everyone on the dance floor. Your thoughts wander to the lessons- the way you laughed and smiled, even with a dance you’ve had to practice over and over for weeks. This was just different, but you tried to give the dwarf the benefit of the doubt.

“May I interject?”

The voice is deep, and you’re surprised to turn and see Thorin smiling beside you both.

The dwarf instantly bows toward his King, stepping away from you. “Of course, your highness,” he then gives you a smile. “Perhaps I will find you later,”

“Perhaps,” you give a nod, watching him cut through the crowd and back toward the ale. The music fades into something slower, and Thorin bows toward you before taking up your hand and waist in proper etiquette.

“You didn’t seem to be having much fun,” says Thorin after a moment. There’s that look again. That smirk that implicates he knows something that you do not. “Or am I intruding?”

“He was quite the dancer,” you reply, but you can’t hold back the chuckle that comes with the allegation. “But I appreciate the sentiment, Thorin. Truly,”

It’s the waltz. You subtly glance around, trying to find Kili, to see if he’s dancing with a maiden, showing her what he’s so skillfully learned from you. Thorin, of course, catches you. He’s always been thorough and observant. And he’s smiling when you look back at him.  
“Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Because there is love in your eyes,” you can’t help but blush at his forwardness. “You’ve grown fond of my nephew,”

“I haven’t-”

“Please, don’t deny it,” he chides, leading you around the floor without much effort. He has a raised brow. “What is holding you back?”

Many things, you wanted to admit. You couldn’t know Kili’s feelings, though you hoped they were the same. The pressures, for another thing. And then there was… “He’s a prince,” it’s relieving to say this out loud, if not a bit sad. “And I’m… well, I’m not royalty. Not even close.”

Thorin gives a chuckle, a shake of his head, before looking back to you. “Is that all?” 

You’re surprised. You thought the King, of all people, would be strict about this. 

“You are brave and loyal. You went into a journey without knowing whether you would return alive, just to help rehome my people,” you’d lowered your gaze during his praise, and Thorin makes you look at him again. His stare is genuine. 

“If that is all that is keeping you from loving my nephew, than I give you my blessing,” Your face flushes and lights up, all at the same time. The shock and adoration washes over you completely. “It would be stupid and reckless to let a love like this go,”

There are joyous tears stinging your eyes, and you’re barely thinking as you take Thorin into a tight embrace. “Thank you, Thorin,” you sniff. A chuckle vibrates in his chest as he pats your back. When he pulls away, he kisses your knuckles, only to spin you around to face Kili, who was now waiting behind you with a gentle expression.

“Kili!” you wipe at your eyes, trying to relieve them of the previous events. “How long have you been standing there?”

“Long enough,” he grins, holding out his hand. The waltz still rages on around you, and he would not let this moment go without showing off what he’s learned. “May I have this dance?”

You smile, taking his hand. “You may,”

Kili bows, and you don’t even notice the nervous stumble as you curtsy back, waiting for him to take up his stance. He pulls you close, close enough for your chests to touch, his other hand taking yours at an angle.

“Good form,” you whisper, staring into his eyes like you had barely 3 days ago.

“I learned from the best,” beams Kili, and before you know it, he’s leading you in a near perfect waltz.

Everything around you seems to disappear, no matter how cliche that felt. No more dancers, no walls or ceiling, no food, no drink, so laughter or talk from the others in the room. It’s only the music and Kili, and perhaps the sound of your heart in your ears.

“So you heard what Thorin said,” you finally speak, looking through your eyelashes at the dwarven prince.

“And what _you_ said,” he replies. You can tell he’s counting in his head, trying to focus on you and the steps. He looks severely handsome, and you try your best to keep your attention on his words. “About how good of a dancer that other dwarf was,”

“Oh, shut it,” You laugh together, and this is how it should be. Fun. Filled with love. “You’re the best dancer in attendance,”

There’s a playful scoff from Kili. “If only you knew how many times I’ve almost fallen over this far,” He stares at you. You think you see a longing in that gaze, but you have to be sure.

“Your Uncle, he… well, he rather forcefully got the truth out of me,” you start, clearing your throat in an attempt to get the words out. It’s a sheepish look that you give the Prince, but his own expression doesn’t change.

“It’s true, then,” he mutters. The music stops, and the two of you come to a halt as well, just in the middle of the floor. You ignore the next song, couples dancing happily around you as you stare into each others eyes. “You love me,”

“I do,” It’s incredible to admit out loud. You do! You love Kili, and you don’t care who knows it! You laugh quietly in surprise. “I… I think I’ve loved you for awhile. Even before I found out you were a terrible dancer,”

“Well, if that didn’t change your mind, then nothing will,” he jokes, and you give him a playful nudge in the shoulder. He catches your wrist in his hand, only to bring your palm up to lay against his stubbled cheek.

“With my Uncle having already given you his blessing, I’d like to court you. Properly,” These words cause your heart to jump, to soar, to pound. Your skin is warm and red, and your smile grows. “I was starting to think we’d never tell each other,”

You give a thoughtful hum, brushing one of his braids back behind his ear, feeling the warm skin where it once lay. Both of your hearts are filled with love as you lean your foreheads against one another. “Well, I’m glad we did,” you say quietly, content sigh escaping you. Then a short chuckle, as you remember where you stand. “But we should probably get out of the way before we get stomped on,”


End file.
